Wrestlin’ a gator: A Justin Lucas story

This week Greg Hackney shares a story about one of the really fine young professional anglers fishing B.A.S.S.: Justin Lucas.

This week I’m going to tell you a story about one of the really fine young professional anglers fishing B.A.S.S. It’s a story from his early years, several years before he qualified for the Bassmaster Elite Series.

After our first trip to California, I needed someone to drive my boat and truck back to Louisiana. (I think that was early in 2007, but I’m not for sure about that.) I was beat and didn’t want to spend three days on the road. A fellow who had a local radio program out there said he knew a couple of young men who would do that for me. He said they were avid anglers and would relish the opportunity.

I told him to hook us up. He did.

We met at the airport. One of them said his name was Justin Lucas. His friend was named Taylor. They were nice, polite and obviously responsible. I gave them the address of my house, tossed them my keys and got on the plane. It was a relief to be on my way home without a boat behind me.

I figured it would take them about three days. That’s how long it would have taken me. I bought two return airplane tickets for them and settled in with the wife and kids. To my surprise they showed up two days later. They had swapped drivers on the trip but never did stop overnight.

They were two days early by my count. We had at least a day and a half to kill before their flight home.

We talked. Neither one of them had ever been out of California. They hadn’t seen an alligator, very many snakes — not the kind we have down here, anyway — and had never eaten fried catfish. I decided to help them with a Southern education.

That night they stayed at a motel near the LSU campus. (LSU isn’t far from my house.) I wanted them to enjoy a little of our college life and, at the same time, still be within walking distance of their room.

The next day I took them, along with my two boys, on a swamp tour. We were the only guys on the boat. The operator was the kind of guy who enjoyed a good time.

The first thing he did was pull up to a mat. He told the four of them to get to the front of the boat if they wanted to see an alligator. There was no alligator. Instead, there was a giant rubber snake under the boat. It was tied to a string. As the four of them were looking over the bow of the boat for an alligator he jerked on the string. The “snake” jumped out of the water and into the boat right in front of them. They freaked out, totally. I laughed until I had tears in my eyes.

We continued on until we did find an alligator. He was big, maybe 7 or 8 feet long. The operator said we’d have some fun. He took a chicken leg and enticed the ‘gator up to the back of the boat. He grabbed it under its front feet while I grabbed its tail. This was all prearranged between the two of us.

It was a cool day so the critter was relatively calm…at first.

Without warning, the animal went berserk. He started thrashing around uncontrollably. He got loose. Then he got mad. Then he got madder. Then he got even madder than that. His tail struck the operator in the leg. The poor guy was badly bruised. For a minute or two it looked like our prank had gone bad.  

Justin, Taylor and my two boys were standing on a bench seat in the front of the boat as far away as they could get. I’m sure they were terrified, although they probably won’t admit that now. The only escape route was to jump overboard. That’s not much of an option when your jump ends in the swamp.  

The operator was finally able to open a gate in the back of the boat. Our alligator escaped through it. We didn’t try to stop him.

After a short while we all calmed down. Our trip continued without incident. Later in the afternoon we stopped at a local restaurant that specializes in fried catfish for a good meal before I took them to the airport to catch their flight back to California.

I’m guessing Justin liked the catfish. He moved to Alabama shortly after that.